February 22, 2010

February 4, 2010

I got two Moms, but it’s not like you think… There’s the after 11 a.m. Mom, you know the 78 year old cougar wanna be. The Mom that just last Saturday night went to the dog races and was chatted up by a WOMAN. A really old one but I could still tell she was a woman. She stopped my Mom in the betting line and told her what an attractive lady she was, and how she kept herself so nice. For a minute I thought Mom was blushing and that I might end up with a new Mommy instead of a new Daddy, but it turns out the flush in Mom’s cheeks was from a bad mix of blood pressure medicine, Geritol and Ginkgo Biloba.

And then there’s the between 11 p.m. and 11 a.m. Mom, or as I like to call her… Yoda.

This is the Mom who takes her teeth out and dons a baggy robe and tattered slippers. She leans on her cane and barks insults and orders; I mean she enlightens me with pearls of wisdom on how to run my life. This Mother can move silently from room to room employing selective super hearing that can’t decipher what anyone on TV is saying, but will pick up the slightest disparaging remark, real or implied, that is directed at her form or institution.

I don’t think the old broad has a light saber, but I do remember one time when I was a kid she hit me with a broom stick. I cried like she had cut off my hand but soon recovered when she broke out the ice-cream. “Perhaps next time before you call your sister shithead, think twice you will, hum?” Yoda Mom softly chided as I sniffled my way through some Rocky Road.

Wayne is out of town this week so Mom has taken upon herself to make sure I get to work on time. Not that Wayne does that, but she feels in his absence she can wobble into my room anytime, unannounced. Yesterday I was sleeping just a bit later than usual when I awoke with a jolt to find the Master standing beside my bed, leaning on her cane, with a disapproving countenance. I don’t know how the same person who can make unloading the dishwasher sound like D-day can get into my room without so much as a squeaking hinge. Once I peeled myself off the ceiling and realized it was Mom standing there, it was like I was 17 again and late for home room. So I got up; what else can you do when it’s 7 o’clock in the morning?

OMG, I wonder if I could get cougar Mom a hook-up with Obi Wan? Darth Vader? Princess Leia???